Chapter Ten #2
I shook my head. “No, never.” Even though I’d run from him, I hadn’t really shaken off his shadow.
Nestore had been with me all along. I had always hoped to return to him one day, even as my hope had diminished little by little over time, especially after the glimpse of his cage fight.
When a man tried to flirt with me, Nestore’s face had always popped to the forefront of my mind, a warning and a reminder of a promise I never wanted to break.
He bent low. “So your every first will be mine.”
I swallowed at the raw possession in his voice. In the past, when we’d talked about sharing all of our firsts, he’d said it reverently, sweetly even, not like I was a prize to claim. “What about you?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
It was stupid of me to even ask. Nestore was a man of power. An angry and vengeful man with power.
Nestore’s lips pulled into a cruel smile. “I fucked as many women as I could, fucked them in every way I could think of, always hoping that one of them would make me forget the sweetness of your kiss, Amelia. They couldn’t, and here I stand, still the slave of one Lamorgese.”
I shook my head slowly, my heart shattering. “We promised to have all of our firsts together,” I whispered.
“And you promised to stay.” Something shifted in his face, the dark bursting forth. “You ran,” he rasped, then snarled. “You ran.”
For a moment, he looked at me like he’d always looked at my father, with hatred and fear.
I understood the former, but not the latter. “Nestore,” I began, but he grabbed my throat. Not tight enough to cut off my air yet, but I got the warning.
I’d betrayed him. Betrayed the promise I’d given him. But that promise had been given to a boy whom Nestore had killed by torturing my father and slaughtering his other tormentors.
“I couldn’t stay,” I whispered. Nestore’s fingers tightened, his eyes darkening in a raging flood of anger.
“Now you will. I won’t let you run again, Amelia. Never again.”
I searched his eyes, searched for a hint of the boy I’d once loved, but he was gone.
Nestore sat in the back seat with me while his men took up the front.
His gaze was stern and foreboding as he peered out of the window at the dark street beyond.
We’d left Minneapolis behind an hour ago.
I wasn’t sure whether we’d drive the entire way to LA or take a plane at some point.
Nestore hadn’t spoken a single word to me since he’d dragged me out of the flower shop and forced me into the black BMW limousine.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find you if you hid in Outfit territory?”
I jumped, turning to him. He leaned back, his head propped up against the window, eyes half lidded as if he had been sleeping, but the look in his eyes was too keen for that.
“I always thought I would return to you one day.”
“When, Amelia?”
I licked my lips. “When you were back to being Nestore from the past. When you were done seeking revenge, living for it.”
His upper lip curled in disgust. “I am who I need to be. I am the evolution of the weak boy I used to be.”
“You were never weak,” I whispered. “You survived under your father. You survived three years of my father’s torture! Evolution? Is that what Remo Falcone calls it?”
Nestore shook his head as if I couldn’t possibly understand what he meant. “Remo understands me. He understands what it means to be born from darkness, to live and breathe it.”
I reached for Nestore’s hand resting on his thigh. His gaze zeroed in on my fingers as they touched him, a look of weariness in it.
“I can’t just disappear from my current life.”
“You mean from Flavia? I know she helped you disappear.”
“Please don’t blame her. She wanted to protect me.”
“From me?” he growled, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
I remained silent. Did I need protection from Nestore? In the past, I would have said no, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. The look in his eyes was terrifying. Whatever had protected me from his monster in the past had been destroyed by my running.
Eight hundred days and one day without Amelia. Not a day had passed that I hadn’t thought about her. Amelia was far more beautiful than I remembered. Watching her sleep beside me in the back seat, a peaceful look on her gorgeous face, I was torn between utter rage and admiration.
Sometimes I had almost given up hope that I would find her, but even when everyone told me to give her up, I had kept going.
Giving up had never been an option. Amelia was too deep in my heart and head.
Sometimes I truly hated her for it. I had shaken off her father’s shackles but was still her slave.
On the other hand, she had built a new life for herself. She had moved on. What would I do if I could do the same?
“We’ve crossed the border,” Sasha announced. “We’ll arrive at the airport in about ten minutes.”
“Good.” I pulled my phone out from my pocket and called Niccolo, who answered after two rings.
“You got her?” Disbelief tinged his voice. He had tried to talk me out of chasing her numerous times, but I simply couldn’t stop. It was the equivalent of not breathing, which would probably be less arduous for me than being without Amelia.
“Yes.”
“What now?” Niccolo asked.
My gaze followed the long strands of shiny hair down Amelia’s arm. Her face was that of royalty. She would be the princess by my side. “You need to organize a wedding.”
Niccola paused. “Wedding?”
“A wedding. I have waited long enough. I won’t waste any more time. It will happen in two weeks and needs to be splendid. I want people to talk about it for years to come. Invite everyone who needs to attend.”
It would be a show and Amelia’s public submission. Everyone would see me marry a Lamorgese, and Amelia would be mine forever.
“You realize that the Camorra is still in a difficult situation? I don’t think any of the Underbosses or Falcones will be able to make it on such short notice.”
“I won’t wait for anyone. In two weeks, Amelia will be my wife.”
Huge blue eyes regarded me in shock as she struggled into an upright position. Holding her gaze, I hung up. The car pulled up next to the private jet. I motioned at it. “Our next ride. It’ll take us home.”
Amelia licked her lips, the gesture flipping my stomach in the most frustrating way. Amelia’s power over me was too great. “You didn’t even ask me to marry you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Would you say yes?”
She tucked a strand behind her ear, then looked away toward the jet, biding her time.
My heart clenched in a way that reminded me of the day I’d read her letter.
She could cause me pain without even putting a finger on me, and she was wholly unaware of her power.
Or maybe she was simply good at playing innocent…
“Don’t bother lying,” I said with menace. “Your consent is irrelevant. Where we’re going, only my word matters.” I shoved the door open and got out, drawing in a deep breath of fuel-saturated air. Usually, when someone enraged me like Amelia, they died.
Amelia slipped out of her door before I could open it and rounded the car. She stopped in front of me. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt, a way-too-ordinary style for my future wife. She belonged in splendid dresses.
Her expression became pleading. “I have to tell Flavia that I’m leaving. She’ll be worried sick if I just disappear, and she needs me to watch Luciano. I can’t just disappear without a trace.”
“You did with me,” I snarled. “Don’t remind me of Flavia’s role in your disappearance, or I might change my mind about sparing her.”
She swallowed hard. “You can’t force me to marry you. You’ll ruin everything we ever shared. We used to be friends. Isn’t that worth anything to you?”
Rage roared in my head. I grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against the side of the car. My men rushed toward the jet to give us space. They knew better than to be near me when I was in a mood.
I’d rarely bothered trying to tune down my rage and the need for bloodshed in the more than two years since I’d become Underboss.
There was no need to. Now, however, with Amelia back in my life and her newfound talent to enrage me, it was a skill I needed to learn.
“We aren’t friends anymore. Right now, we are nothing but captive and captor.
Soon we will be lovers, husband and wife.
Whatever was between us before, you ruined it by running. ”
Her expression fell. Did she finally understand what she’d done? Or did she prefer to stay oblivious? “Don’t force me to marry you, Nestore. You’re better than that.”
I glared at the enraging girl before me. “Oh no, you will become my wife. I’ll parade you around as my trophy until the end of all days. You will be the memorial of your father’s fallen kingdom and the mark of my triumph, Amelia Lamorgese.”
She tried to shove me away, but I held her tighter. She was much smaller than I was, and I had worked on my strength every day since I’d left my cell.
I leaned down until her hot breath ghosted over my cheek.
My lips brushed her throat, inhaling her sweet scent, slightly sweaty from a day of work, but still perfect, way too perfect.
I bared my teeth and bit down into her soft skin, wanting to leave a mark.
She gasped, her body tensing under my hands, her breath stuttering in her chest.
She tasted better than any fantasy of hers. I couldn’t wait to taste the rest of her, to draw out more pants of pain from her pink lips.